


Marshmallowed

by CeleryLapel



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Apartment 303 Adventures, Community Appreciation Week 2018, Gen, Humor, Make us Laugh Fic, set sometime in S3 or S4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 07:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14420340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeleryLapel/pseuds/CeleryLapel
Summary: Troy hangs out with his friends





	Marshmallowed

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I always make you laugh, dear readers. Ahem, disregarding what I posted yesterday, of course (my bad). Written for Community Appreciation 2018 Week, Day 2: ‘Make us Laugh’ fic

It couldn’t have been foreseen. It had seemed so easy. So exciting. So tantalizing.

They had done all the research. Watched the movie. Procured all the ingredients. Mixed all the batter.

Damn, those marshmallows sure made a mess.

Troy lifted his head from where he had been staring at his white sticky shoes and regarded the pendulum of fluff as it slowly but surely separated from the ceiling and landed on his face.

He promptly began licking.

“Ewww! Gross! You both are so gross!”

Troy shrugged at Annie’s shrieks, and he continued his attempts at eating himself out of this situation. This became increasingly difficult as he was light headed. He suddenly felt Annie’s hands on his arm and then a forceful wiping of his face.

Annie’s frustrated squint came into view between bits of towel, and he decided to just let her help him. She was usually pretty right about these types of things.

“Goodness, Troy! You’re going to asphyxiate!”

“I do love butt stuff.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of her furrowed brow but then decided to let it go. It was Saturday, and it was only a week until spring break. He and Abed had gotten a good start on things, or at least they thought they had. He wondered if they had gotten the recipe wrong.

As Annie loudly sighed and turned to smash her way toward the kitchen, he called out, “Hey, Annie, do you know the right way to make the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man?”

“I’m not talking to you right now. I’m going back to my room to study.”

“But it’s almost spring break.”

She pushed her way through the delicious goo until she was once again facing him, hands on hips. She tilted her head and paused for a few awkward seconds before saying, “I don’t think you and Abed should make your sequel to Ghostbusters.”

“Why not?”

“There have already been sequels. I’m sure you could make a different movie. Maybe something about studying?”

“Annie, you’re no fun. I’m almost tempted to call Britta.”

She rolled her eyes and then jutted out her chin as she slowly shuffled toward her bedroom. There was a loud slam, and Troy shrugged once again.

“Ahhh. Women.”

“I don’t think this is a gender thing, Troy.”

He startled at the sound of Abed’s adorable voice, for he hadn’t been quite sure if he was still in the room. The last thing he remembered was Abed wiggling his eyebrows and then running for cover.

He turned toward the couch and shouted, “Where are you?”

“Right here.” Abed carefully emerged from under the dining table, completely and utterly unmarshmallowed.

Damn that soulful gentlecreature sure knew how to gracefully duck for cover. He was pretty impressed. He smiled until his cheeks almost hurt, he was so happy.

“Abed! You son of a bitch! I thought you were dead!” he exclaimed as attempted to trudge through the mallowsludge toward him. He got about two feet before Abed extended his hand and placed his palm outward, indicating he wanted him to stop. Troy reluctantly obeyed.

Abed explained, “Wrong genre. Now, if you had said something along the lines of, _Funny, us going out like this. Killed by a hundred foot Marshmallow Man,_ then that would have made more sense.” He began to slowly shake his head, and Troy suddenly felt kinda stupid. He should have known to say something like that. They had watched the film ten times in a row last night.

“Man, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You may have had a head injury. That blast was pretty intense.”

Troy noticed Abed’s dark eyes flicker with excitement. It was subtle for most people, but he knew the bastard.

With a grin, he asked, “You thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’?”

They shouted in unison, “Amnesia!”

Annie screamed from behind her closed door, “Shut up!”

Unperturbed by the interruption, they both stared at each other for a moment, each gesturing toward Annie’s door and silently mouthing various questions and comments. Troy couldn’t make out everything Abed said, but he was pretty sure he said something about a coma and a Doctor Wheels.

Eyes dawning in realization, he whispered, “You mean the movie _Coma_?”

Abed suddenly regarded him with pride, and Troy felt his chest swell. Abed whispered back, “Yes, Troy. Annie can be our Dr. Wheeler.” He gestured toward the door once again, and they both awkwardly made their way toward it.

Abed cleared his throat and knocked. About a full minute later, Annie cautiously opened it a crack.  She regarded them with suspicion and asked, “What do you want?”

Troy couldn’t wait. This would be so much fun. But he held back, knowing Abed needed to start this. All three of them had watched _Coma_ last weekend. He hoped to the puff mallowmen in heaven and on the ceiling that she would play along.

Abed cocked his head and said in a serious tone, “Our society faces momentous decisions. Decisions about the right to die. About abortion. About terminal illness, prolonged coma, transplantation. Decisions about life and death. But society isn't deciding. Congress isn't deciding. The courts aren't deciding. Religion isn't deciding. Why? Because society is leaving it up to us, the experts. The doctors.”

Annie rolled her eyes and said, “You’re crazy.”

Abed and Troy each let out a squeak.

Abed then pressed on, “Americans spend $125 billion a year on health. More than defense. Because Americans believe in medical care. These great hospital complexes are the cathedrals of our age. Billions of dollars, thousands of beds. A whole nation of sick people turning to us for help.”

Annie shook her head. “You ought to see somebody.”

“They're children, Sue. They trust us. We can't tell them everything. Our job is to make things easier for them. I'm sure you agree.”

Annie suddenly twisted her face the way she did when she smelled something bad, which they may have noticed two days ago when they watched The Princess Bride and tried to replicate The Bog of Eternal Stench in the kitchen.

She shouted, “You’re terrible!”

Abed cocked his head and said, “The line is, _you’re killing people.”_

“I’ll kill you if you don’t stop it. I have to study.”

Troy whined, “Come on, Annie please.”

She turned toward him and said, “You realize, Troy, that you’re the one who’s in a coma. Think about that for just a minute.”

Feeling his brain wrinkle at the thought, he suddenly didn’t feel so enthusiastic about this enactment. Luckily, he felt Abed’s sturdy hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, Troy, we don’t have to play _Coma_ if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. I’d rather play Princess Bride.”

At this, Annie instinctively clasped her nose, and Troy felt the need to reassure her. He said, “Hey no worries, Annie. No Bog this time. Hey, you could be the Princess.”

He could see her making strong efforts to suppress a smile, and he knew he had her. Annie always did like to pretend, as long as it didn’t involve stinky or overly messy things. He made a mental note to add delicious marshmallow to the list.

“Well, I guess that would be okay.”

Abed remarked, “I thought you said you had to st…”

Troy slapped his hand over Abed’s mouth and said, “Don’t mind him. Let’s go, Buttercup. I’ll get your horse.”

As Annie clapped her hands and Abed lightly took his hand off his face, Troy knew everything would be okay.

It was going to be the perfect Saturday.

 

 

 


End file.
